The Rose of Gondor
by Roisin Dubh
Summary: In the years before the fall of Osgiliath and the Fellowship’s quest to destroy the one Ring, Faramir finds himself besotted with a lady from Gondor, but the resentment Denethor harbors for his younger son threatens to ruin everything.
1. Default Chapter

Summary: In the years before the fall of Osgiliath and the Fellowship's quest to destroy the one Ring, Faramir finds himself besotted with a lady from Gondor, but the resentment Denethor harbors for his younger son threatens to ruin everything.  
  
Rating: PG (romance/angst)  
  
Disclaimer: This story is based upon the characters and world created by J.R.R. Tolkien in his books "The Hobbit," "Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring," "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers," and "Lord of the Rings: Return of the King." They are also based - in part - on the movie version of "Lord of the Rings," directed by Peter Jackson. These stories are meant for entertainment only, and I receive no monetary compensation for them - only the enjoyment of writing them. Some few passages have been quoted from either book or movie only for purposes of story continuity. These are marked with ** at the end of the passage.  
  
The setting and all characters are the creations of Tolkien except for the following, who are my own: Seralina (Serra-leena), Hamathar (Hamma-thar)  
  
I'm new to writing fanfiction, so these first few entries may seem pedestrian in plot. I'd welcome constructive reviews…  
  
************  
  
The Rose of Gondor  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Lady Seralina was, by all accounts, the loveliest woman to ever grace Gondor and the city of Minas Tirith. From the moment she was presented at the court of the Steward when she was 14, the city had buzzed about her. She was fair of face with long hair, rich in hue; the same shade as the burnished shells of horse chestnuts with the merest hint of red-gold mixed in. Her eyes were an unusual shade of blue that traced directly back to her grandmother four-generations removed who had been an elf from Rivendell. On her father's side, her lineage traced not only from the ancient Lords of Gondor but also to the ruling clan of Rohan. She could claim third generation kinship to Eomer and Eowyn, the nephew and niece of Theoden King.  
  
Seralina also possessed a grace and charm that delighted those around her. And those petty few who wished to hate her for all the wonderful things she was, soon found they couldn't hate her for long; for the kindness she showed to both Lord and servant, merchant and soldier, was genuine. Soon the people were calling her the Rose of Gondor.  
  
Her father was old friends with the Steward of Gondor and as a child Seralina often found herself in Lord Denethor's house for dinners and visits. Denethor's oldest son and heir, Boromir, was seven years her senior and she always had fond memories of listening to his tales of adventures and excitement out in the Wild. Of course, she knew now that he had embellished those tales to impress the wide-eyed little girl, and that knowledge merely made the memory dearer. Boromir's younger brother, Faramir, was only four years older than she was. More studious and less flamboyant than his brother, Faramir was a bit of a mystery to Seralina but she always looked forward to seeing him when they visited Denethor's home.   
  
From the day of her first presentation in the Steward's court there had been speculation as to who would court Seralina and whom she would someday wed. There were Princes and Lords' sons in many realms that expressed an interest, but her father accepted no official suitors. He had seen excellent marriages arranged in his day but he had also seen terrible ones, and he had promised himself that he would see Seralina not only well wed, but happy as well. He would ask her from time to time about lads she showed interest in, but she would most often keep her thoughts to herself. Seralina had her own thoughts on who would be a suitable husband.   
  
And so it was in her 18th year that Seralina decided it was time to make some of her own opinions on the topic clear.  
  
  
  
Every other year, a tournament was held on the Pelennor Fields below the White City. Soldiers and Rangers and men from many kingdoms came to compete in the games. Champions were named for archery and sword-work, for combat and tracking. Winners were rewarded with a specially minted coin. It wasn't worth much as money but it was the prestige and the honor that the men – and occasionally some women – competed for.   
  
This would be her third tournament and Seralina was excited. The city fairly hummed with anticipation. Riders from Rohan had reached Minas Tirith two nights before and even the wizard Gandalf was there in the company of an elf and several Rangers from the North. Seralina had heard many of the other ladies comment on how handsome the elf was with his long blond hair and stunning blue eyes.  
  
As she watched, a group of giggling girls passed her by, and Seralina smiled. "This poor elf warrior," she laughed to her father, "will be unable to compete once all the ladies so smitten with him offer their tokens! His arms will be too weighed down to lift his bow."  
  
It was frequent for the men competing to wear a gift from their lover or wife or from a young woman they wished to court. There would be bits of cloth tied to scabbards or vests, or charms worn around the neck for all to see. Seralina had never given a token to anyone merely deflecting the question with a laugh.  
  
"They are all so interested in who I would give a favor to that they would forget to compete," she would complain. "I'll not be the reason for some young man to lose." But the truth was, she didn't want to give a token to just anyone.  
  
  
  
The tournament would begin at noon with all of the participants presenting themselves before Lord Denethor. Seralina walked through the crowd arm in arm with her father. In her free hand she held a true Gondorian rose. That her hand bore no scratch, no cut was a testament to her patience and gentle touch, for not only were Gondorian roses noted for their exquisite petals and delightful fragrance, they were always well protected by a maze of razor-sharp thorns.  
  
"We have excellent seats," said her father. "And you'll be able to see quite well. Perhaps you will cheer for someone?"  
  
"Well, I shall certainly cheer for Prince Eomer when he rides, as he is my cousin and you must cheer for your kin, but as for the others, we shall see." Her father laughed and she smiled at his mirth.   
  
"My Lord Hamathar," called Denethor from just ahead of them. "We've not seen you in a few weeks." Then he smiled. "Ah, the Rose of Gondor. You are lovelier than ever, Seralina. It is, as always, a pleasure to behold you."  
  
"Thank you, My Lord," she said with a smile that masked her dislike. Denethor made her uneasy and the way he favored his eldest son over his youngest angered her to no end. Boromir was always held in esteem as the perfect son and no matter what Faramir did, it was never equal to Boromir. To his credit, Boromir did his best to encourage Faramir and to honor him in his successes. Despite Denethor's interference, the brothers were fond of each other.  
  
"Lord Boromir," she said, "I see you have garnered the favors of several ladies to help you win through the competitions."  
  
"My Boromir will be a tremendous success these next few days, I'd wager," bragged Denethor. The tall, blond man smiled at the praise.   
  
"I should think that the Lord Faramir will also meet with some success?" inquired Seralina, knowing she wouldn't like the Steward's response.  
  
"That boy will do what he will," sighed Denethor. "I expect nothing from him. These games are Boromir's. But alas we must move on. Hamathar, you will join us for dinner next week to celebrate our victories here…"  
  
Premature, thought Seralina, as the games have not yet begun.  
  
"We would be honored, my Lord Steward," said Seralina's father.  
  
The Steward moved on, greeting friends and citizens of the land and Boromir's ringing laugh and voice could be heard over the crowd.  
  
"Ah," Seralina said to her father a few minutes later, "I see that gang of miscreants whom you call your friends beckoning you to join them for some of the fine dwarf mead that I know has been brought up for the games. I wish to look at the market for some things. Shall I meet you at the pavilion box when the contestants present themselves to Lord Denethor?"  
  
Her father hesitated. "This is a large crowd for you to be alone in, daughter…"  
  
She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, father. With all these bragging young men here, I think I could find a few who would come to my rescue should I need the assistance."  
  
The old man sighed and nodded. Seralina did have a point and he knew she also had concealed on her person a very effective dagger, and that she was well versed in its use. He had always encouraged his daughter to know how to defend herself if the need arose. It was not merely for her fair face that Seralina was known as the Rose of Gondor.  
  
Seralina took leave of her father and spent some small amount of time wandering among the merchant booths. She found some fine cloth that she had sent back to the manor it would make a wonderful cloak for the winter, and there was enough to make one for her and to trim the one she was already making as a birthday gift for her father.  
  
She passed a group of the Rohirrim as she neared the playing fields again. She offered them a smile and a polite dip of her head. As she walked on she could hear them behind her.  
  
"That would be the Rose of Gondor, cousin to Eomer of the Mark."  
  
"As beautiful and rich as Eowyn…"  
  
"Aye, but Eowyn be ice and steel… that one looks warm and..."  
  
Seralina felt her cheeks color slightly and the corner of her mouth quirked into a smile. Finally she saw a group of men talking. Mostly they were Rangers from the north and some men of Gondor. They bowed as she passed and then puzzled as she stopped. Looking into the heart of the group, she smiled.  
  
"My Lord Faramir," she said. "I'm pleased to see you. I've not seen you in the city of late, and I had wondered if you would take part in this grand spectacle."  
  
"I will try to hold my own." He smiled at Seralina and then glanced away.  
  
"But I see you bear no colors from a lady," she said. "Surely you are hiding your token away."  
  
Faramir's cheeks colored slightly. "Nay, all of the favors are claimed by others."   
  
Seralina tilted her head to one side. "Well, the son of the Steward cannot go to the mews without something for luck. I know a gentleman usually asks a lady if he may carry her favor, but I would be honored if you would carry mine on the field, Faramir." She held out the Gondorian rose that she held. Every eye in the immediate circle of people turned toward the young man.  
  
Faramir didn't notice them; he wasn't sure he could believe his ears. He'd spent so long in the shadow of his brother that he'd nearly forgotten what it was like to be favored for anything. His eyes remained fixed on the flower she offered and at the sight of his knitted brow, Seralina grew uneasy.  
  
"If I have offended you, my Lord, my apologies…"  
  
"No," said Faramir quickly. "No. Such a gesture would never offend me, but you have taken me by surprise, Seralina."  
  
She smiled. "Then perhaps I should compete in the tracking competition if I can surprise the likes of you." Her laugh sounded like bells to his ears. Stepping up close to Faramir, she wove the stem of the rose through one of the grommet holes of his leather jerkin, tying it securely with the extra lacing.  
  
Faramir, for his part, was looking down at Seralina with wonderment plain on his face, trying to fathom what had inspired her to such a gesture. He, like many others, had always thought Seralina beautiful, and he made a point to be at dinners where she would be even if it meant weathering the derisive comments of his father. In all those years, he'd come to realize he loved Seralina, but he'd always kept his peace. Never once had he thought Seralina would ever grace him with more than a smile and some conversation. In fact, he'd nearly managed to convince himself that he didn't love the Rose of Gondor. Then Seralina turned her own eyes up and when blue met brown, Faramir could no longer lie to himself; he was utterly smitten.   
  
"Luck to you, my Lord," said Seralina with another smile. "I shall watch from the pavilion." She dropped a quick curtsy and hurried on her way. My heart feels as if it will hammer straight out of my chest, she thought to herself. She threw a quick look back over her shoulder and found Faramir still watching her.   
  
***********  
  
That's the first installment… hopefully, you like it so far…  
  
Regards,  
  
Roisin Dubh 


	2. Rose of Gondor, Chapter 2

Summary: In the years before the fall of Osgiliath and the Fellowship's quest to destroy the one Ring, Faramir finds himself besotted with a lady from Gondor, but the resentment Denethor harbors for his younger son threatens to ruin everything.  
  
Rating: PG (probably doesn't even warrant PG, but hey...)  
  
Disclaimer: This story is based upon the characters and world created by J.R.R. Tolkien in his books "The Hobbit," "Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring," "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers," and "Lord of the Rings: Return of the King." They are also based - in part - on the movie version of "Lord of the Rings," directed by Peter Jackson. These stories are meant for entertainment only, and I receive no monetary compensation for them - only the enjoyment of writing them. Some few passages have been quoted from either book or movie only for purposes of story continuity. These are marked with ** at the end of the passage. The setting and all characters are the creations of Tolkien except for the following, who are my own: Seralina (Serra-leena), Hamathar (Hamma-thar)  
  
Thank you: Evenstar Elanor and Jopru for taking the time to send me comments.   
  
  
  
** ** ** **  
  
"You're looking particularly pleased with yourself," said Hamathar when his daughter arrived in the pavilion box. Seralina looked coyly at her father through her thick eyelashes.  
  
"Do I?"  
  
"You are up to something, my daughter, but, ah, you could have robbed the Steward and run off with a dwarf and I'd forgive you." Hamathar sighed, knowing full well how much of Seralina's creature he really was, and he cared little for who knew it.   
  
He and his wife had two children once, before Seralina. His son had died a soldier, in a battle with Orcs many years ago, and his first daughter had fallen ill when she was 15 and perished. Hamathar had resolved himself to the remainder of his life without the joy of children. Then, unexpectedly, when he was 40 and his wife was 45, she'd announced she was once again pregnant. They both considered Seralina to be a gift from the gods and they doted on her. Seralina's mother passed on when the girl was 10.  
  
The parade of participants had gone on for some time. There were at least 100 men competing and their numbers would be winnowed down over the next few days until only the finest remained. They came before the Steward in no set order. Finally, Seralina could see Boromir's blond head above the crowd and a few down from him she saw Faramir. The crowd cheered for their favorite when Boromir bowed to his father and Seralina counted six young ladies who all waved dreamily at him and then shot each other looks of disgust.  
  
"Lord Boromir does indeed love the attention of the ladies," observed Hamathar.  
  
"That he does," said Seralina, "but he at least is open and bold about it. He does not favor one to her face and then hide her from another."  
  
Her father started to say something and then his brow furrowed and he leaned forward. Seralina saw him staring hard at young Faramir and the rose adorning his jerkin.  
  
"My Lord Steward," said Faramir, reciting the formulated greeting, "Faramir of Gondor presents his arms for the competition."  
  
"Welcome, Faramir..." The Steward paused, also wondering about the rose. "Bring honor to your house and to your sponsor..."  
  
Faramir looked up to Seralina and she leaned forward, waving to him. A small smile curled the corners of his mouth. There was an audible gasp and then a flurry of whispers as the crowd realized that Faramir would be the Rose of Gondor's champion in the games. Seralina heard them and pressed her fingers to her mouth, laughing.   
  
After two days of fierce competition, the victors were presented. As predicted, the Riders of Rohan excelled in the equestrian events. Eomer and his cousin Theodred were both presented with coins. The elf warrior, a prince by the name of Legolas, took a coin in archery but only competed in one event, saying he felt his keen elven eyesight gave him an unfair advantage. Boromir himself won four, and to Seralina's delight, Faramir won three.  
  
Denethor smiled broadly when he presented the coins to Boromir. Faramir stepped up after his brother only to have the Steward present him with his coins with little more than a thin smile and perfunctory salute. Seralina saw the flash of disappointment that crossed Faramir's face, but it disappeared as his brother appeared and clapped him on the back, congratulating him loudly on his prizes.   
  
I'm glad they care so much for one another, thought Seralina. How lonely it would be for Faramir if Boromir's heart was set against him as well.  
  
As the ceremony ended, Faramir worked his way through the crowd to Seralina and Lord Hamathar.  
  
"You've done well," said the old man.  
  
Faramir's smile was thin. "Thank you," he said, but his thoughts were on the lack of praise from his father. Then he turned his attention to Seralina and his face brightened.  
  
"And I must thank you, Lady, for I'm certain your rose brought me much luck."  
  
"No," she said. "Luck had only a little to do with it. Your own strength and skill won the day."  
  
He offered his arm. "If your father does not object, I would walk you home."  
  
Lord Hamathar put his daughter's hand on Faramir's arm. "Then I convey her into your protection." Seralina smiled at her father and then at Faramir and the two started to walk towards the city. Many eyes and whispers followed the pair. Among them was Denethor whose countenance darkened.   
  
The following month passed quickly. Immediately after the games had concluded, Boromir had ridden out on a mission for Denethor. Faramir stayed on his regular patrol with his own men, scouting the lands near Minas Tirith, and that meant he was frequently within the city walls - and a frequent caller on Lady Seralina.  
  
  
  
Together they stood in the last rays of the day's sun, looking down at the streets of the White City. Seralina's hand was warm in Faramir's. At that height in the city, the breezes were always cool. Faramir moved to stand behind Seralina, shielding her from the wind, and he slid his arms around her waist.  
  
"I understand my father and I have been invited to the Steward's home tomorrow for dinner."  
  
"Mmm," murmured Faramir. "My brother arrives back in the morning. I've been told I must attend as well."  
  
"And so we shall be regaled by tales of his adventures and mighty deeds," she said. "Or rather, your father will wish to hear of them, and Boromir will certainly oblige him."  
  
"Seralina." Faramir's voice was low and soft in her ear. "I did not walk you to the top of the city to discuss my brother." He kissed her neck, where the corner of the jaw rested, and then he kissed her again a few inches down. Seralina closed her eyes as a shiver ran through her and leaned into his embrace.  
  
"If you are willing," he said after a moment in that same husky whisper, "I would speak to both of our fathers of a more formal binding between us."  
  
She turned in his arms and looked up into Faramir's grey-blue eyes. Tracing a finger down his cheek, she smiled. "Willing? Aye, Lord Faramir, I would be most willing."  
  
He smiled. "Tomorrow, I have a day free of duty, save my father's dinner. Would my lady wish to ride to Osgiliath for the day?"  
  
"She would." Seralina enjoyed riding and a day trip to the river city was something she hadn't done yet this season. "And I know my father has business to attend to with the Steward before dinner, so he will be occupied much of the day..."  
  
** ** **  
  
That's it for Chapter 2... more to come soon... As always constructive feedback is most welcome! 


	3. Rose of Gondor, Chapter 3

Disclaimer: As always, the setting and most characters belong to Tolkien. Seralina, Hamathar and the idea for Rose of Gondor came from my own imagination. I receive no compensation for this, on the enjoyment of writing it.  
  
Rating: PG13 (but probably doesn't even warrant that)  
  
Thanks as always to the people who have taken the time to write with comments. I appreciate the feedback.  
  
** ** **   
  
Seralina and Faramir set out for Osgiliath early in the morning. You could reach the river city from Minas Tirith in under an hour if you set a hard pace for your horse. For a leisurely ride, it would take two assuming you didn't stroll idly along. They started quietly, walking and talking… Faramir discovered more and more things he enjoyed discussing with Seralina. She was well-read and could discuss literature and history, but she had a keen interest in many things and Faramir even found that conversations turned – from time to time – to military topics. More often than not, he found she had excellent insights into many things.   
  
And after a time their conversation turned to sport and they raced their horses along the road. Faramir's mount was larger and more suited for racing than Seralina's palfrey, but the Rose of Gondor rode fearlessly and challenged Faramir for the lead on several occasions. Finally, after a few miles, they slowed their horses, laughing.  
  
They spent the morning in Osgiliath and walked by the river to see some of the boats that came and went. Less were here today, for rumors of dark times spreading from Mordor were surfacing, but those rumors seemed far away under the mid-morning sun. Finally, Faramir beckoned Seralina to the horses.   
  
"It will be time to eat soon," he said, "and then we'll need to return to Minas Tirith. We should not have the dust of a race on us when we appear for supper."  
  
"No," she laughed. "Especially tonight we should look our finest, as important questions are to be asked."  
  
Faramir merely smiled. They rode out of Osgiliath but he took them down a different road. A short time later he cantered off the road to the crest of a small hill and waved for Seralina to follow him. Over the hill was a flat green area with a small grove of apple trees that were full in bloom.  
  
After they'd eaten, Seralina sat in the shade of one of the trees, Faramir's head in her lap. She gently twined some of his hair between her fingers and watched as he rested with his eyes shut. Finally, he looked up and smiled at her, and then took one of her hands and kissed it.  
  
"Ah, but for this moment to go on forever."  
  
"Soon, perhaps," he said, "we can steal more of these days together, but for now we must make haste to return to the White City. I fear we have lingered too long here, and if we do not hurry we will be late."  
  
Back in the city, one of the servants at Seralina's home told her that her father had requested she join him at the Steward's house at the appropriate hour. She drew a bath and then braided up the sides of her hair so that it swept up on the sides and cascaded down her back. She chose a dress of deep green. It came up just over the points of her shoulders and the neck scooped down. At the waist a wide belt fell loosely at her hips, joining in the front in an elaborately stitched and decorated knot. The trim on her collars, sleeves and hem were gold and patterned in the endless knots so prevalent in Rohan, where her cousins resided.  
  
She was greeted and brought to the dining hall where she found her father, Denethor and Boromir.   
  
"Lady Seralina," said Boromir with a smile. "You are as radiant as ever."  
  
"You're too kind, Lord Boromir. I'm pleased you've returned safely."  
  
Boromir grinned at her and she wondered what amused him so. She glanced at the two older men and a momentary sense of apprehension washed over her. Denethor looked far too pleased and her father looked pale, refusing to meet her gaze. She started to inquire when Faramir joined them and they were all ushered to the table.  
  
Throughout the dinner, they were regaled with tales of adventure from Boromir, and while he did try to turn the conversation to other things, including his brother's recent accomplishments, Denethor always brought the conversation back to Boromir. As dinner concluded, Faramir caught Seralina's eye and gave her a tiny nod.  
  
"My Lord Steward," he said, "and my good Lord Hamathar, I have a request for you…"  
  
"In just a moment, Faramir," interrupted Denethor. "I have an announcement."  
  
Faramir schooled the annoyance in his expression. "Of course," he said courteously.  
  
"Today has been a hard day of skillful negotiating. I have long felt it was time for Boromir to marry and produce an heir who will be Steward of Gondor someday, and I have finally made that match."  
  
Seralina smiled. Wonderful, this will put Denethor in a good mood when Faramir speaks of his request. I will lay wagers that he has finally matched Boromir to Eowyn of Rohan. The Shieldmaiden will be a good match for his temper, if his pride can abide a woman who can outride him.  
  
"Today I am please to announce that my beloved son, Boromir, shall take the Lady Seralina, daughter of Lord Hamathar, as wife."  
  
Into the raging silence of the room, only Seralina's voice was heard.  
  
"Never!"  
  
"Seralina," said Boromir, "I understand this is a shock…"  
  
"Shock?" she shouted. "This is an outrage!"  
  
"Father?" The anger in Faramir's voice radiated in the room.  
  
"You'll be silent, boy!" barked the Steward.  
  
"Nay, I will not. Not this time…"  
  
"What is going on?" roared Boromir. Until this moment, he'd been extraordinarily pleased with the news. He'd only learned of the match his father had negotiated when he had arrived for dinner. Denethor had asked him not to say anything until the Steward himself could announce it at dinner.   
  
"You've been gone," said Seralina, "so how could you know that Faramir has set court to me for this past month and more…"  
  
Boromir's eyes shot to his brother. "Is this true?"  
  
"Aye," said Faramir. "I was going to ask tonight for the blessing of the Steward and Lord Hamathar to wed Seralina."  
  
Seralina turned on her own father. "Father? Father! Surely this is a misunderstanding…"  
  
"Nay, daughter," he said weakly. "This will be a good match for you…" his voice trailed away unconvincingly, and she turned to the Steward.  
  
"Something foul has happened here! By what means did you threaten my father to have your way thus?"  
  
"I resent your implication, Lady," said Denethor darkly. "I have made the best match possible for my son, the future Steward."  
  
"There are better matches in the world for the heir of the Steward. Your choice was made for spite, for you cannot brook Faramir's happiness in anything! You will undo this thing."  
  
"No." Denethor raised his voice angrily. "You will marry Boromir as we have decided." He looked coldly at his younger son. "I had no official word from you that you were paying court to the Lady Seralina. Perhaps, if I had known earlier…"  
  
"You knew right well. And if you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, your lapdogs have surely brought you word of our every move." Faramir stared balefully at his father.  
  
"You did not ask my permission, therefore my decision stands. Lady Seralina will wed Boromir and we will hear no more of this!"  
  
** ** ** **  
  
Hope you're all still enjoying the tale so far… more to come soon. 


	4. Rose of Gondor, Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Same as in the other chapters. Gratitude to Tolkien for creating such wonderful characters. Everything is his, save Hamathar, Seralina, and the idea for this particular tale. As always, I receive no compensation for any of this.  
  
Rating: PG13, if that.  
  
** ** **  
  
Boromir came over took Seralina's hands in his own. "This will not be so bad a thing..." he said.  
  
She yanked her hands away from him. "Make no mistake, Boromir. I will not wed you willingly," she said coldly. "There will be no laughter, no joy in any house in which I dwell with you. And those things exchanged between a husband and wife? The soft words, longing looks, caresses... They will not be given freely; those you will have to take by force to your everlasting shame." And with that, the Rose of Gondor turned on her heels and fled from the room, weeping.   
  
"Seralina!" Faramir took two steps after her.  
  
"Stop, Faramir, and that is an order from the Steward of Gondor!"  
  
To disobey that order would make his life forfeit. Faramir knew it and he stopped.  
  
Later that night, Boromir found his brother in one of the many halls of the Steward's manor house.   
  
"Faramir. Brother!" Boromir had to hurry down the hall to catch him.  
  
"I've no desire to speak with you right now, Boromir."  
  
"I did not do this. You know that. I learned of it not long before you did."  
  
"No," said Faramir. "No, you did not, but you've done little thus far to undo it."  
  
"Father has made his decision. Who am I to change it?"  
  
"Who are you?" Faramir turned back to his brother and jabbed a finger into Boromir's chest. "You are the mighty Boromir! You can do no wrong in Father's eyes. Anything you wished, he would grant. And since you do not see fit to stop this betrothal, then I can only believe that you do want Seralina to wife."  
  
"And who would not? There are hundreds of men in this city... in all of Middle Earth who would do unspeakable things to possess the Rose of Gondor, and here she is given into my hands. I have long looked on her with a soft eye, too, brother!"  
  
"You have looked on many with that soft eye, Boromir. More than you probably care to count. You are my brother. You know my heart. How can you betray me like this?"  
  
Boromir was torn. "Betrayed you? I have not, Faramir!"  
  
"You have. And the depth of that betrayal still remains to be seen." He turned and walked away without another word.  
  
Seralina had not come out of her rooms for four days. She barely ate. Her father tried to see her but she refused. When he insisted on entering the room, she sat with her back to him, staring out the window.  
  
"I did not mean for this to happen," he said softly. "But I had no other choice, Seralina."  
  
"There is always another choice," was her chilly reply.  
  
Another day passed and Hamathar returned to his daughter's chamber. "Seralina, you have a visitor."  
  
"I have no wish for company." She did not even turn towards the open doorway.  
  
"Then I will go if you wish," said Faramir, "and trouble you no longer."  
  
"Nay!" Seralina spun from the window. "Nay, do not go, my Lord Faramir. Yours is the only face I've desired to see these long days."  
  
Hamathar turned to go. "You cannot stay long. I no longer know who is loyal in my own household. Word of your visit will fly to your father's ears, and I would not make this any worse."  
  
"Thank you, Hamathar," said Faramir softly.  
  
The old Lord shut the door behind him and Seralina ran into Faramir's arms. He stroked her hair, letting her cry, and struggled to keep his own tears at bay.  
  
"I won't marry Boromir!" she cried. "I will not do it!"  
  
"We will find away to change this," he answered.  
  
"How?" she demanded. "With our Father's set against us?"  
  
"Your father is innocent in this," said Faramir. "I do not know what mischief my own father wrought to force Hamathar to acquiesce to this folly, but I do know that the match and your anger towards him, cut him to the bone."  
  
"I know." She shook her head miserably. "I have not been kind to him..."  
  
Faramir tilted her chin up and kissed Seralina. Pulling her as close to him as he could, his kisses took on a fierceness he could not control and she returned them with an equal passion.  
  
"I love you, Faramir," she whispered. "My heart has always been yours."  
  
"And you have my love, Seralina. You and no other hold my heart."  
  
"I meant what I said to your brother." Her mouth formed a grim line. "Never will I give myself to him willingly. Never."   
  
The thought of Boromir kissing Seralina, of having her in his bed, was nearly too much for Faramir. Outside the horn of the watch sounded.   
  
"I must go," he said.  
  
"No, it is too soon, my Lord. Do not leave me..."  
  
He put both hands on Seralina's face and kissed her again. "I must. Your father was right, if I linger here overlong word will surely find its way to my father and that will make all of this worse. Trust I will do all I can to change this."  
  
The next morning, Seralina's chamber maid hurried in with a small gift for her Lady. It was a thin leather lace with a silver disc with Elvish runes on it. They were runes of protection - it was the medallion that Faramir wore.  
  
"My Lord bid me bring this to you Lady and tell you that the Steward has dispatched his troop this morning. They are to ride the perimeter of Gondor to the border of Rohan before they return here, just before your wedding. They prepare to ride out even now."  
  
I'll not see Faramir again until the day I'm delivered up to Boromir, a pawn in this wretched game. Seralina put the disc around her neck and fairly flew down the stairs. She hurried through the streets of Minas Tirith toward the gate where the soldiers departed. She stepped up on one of the side stairs and searched the riders for his face. Faramir saw her on the platform and reined in his horse. His two oldest and closest companions stopped with him. Seralina touched the medallion and smiled a soft, sad smile.  
  
Faramir raised his fingers to his mouth, kissed them and then raised the hand towards Seralina. She did likewise and watched him ride out of the gate.  
  
** ** ** **   
  
Stay tuned... 


	5. Rose of Gondor, Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Only Seralina and her father are my original creations. Everything else I owe to Tolkien.   
  
Rating: PG13, if that  
  
** ** ** **  
  
Seralina walked down the hallway of the Steward's home with Boromir. She carried herself proudly, but did not look upon him nor smile at him.  
  
"My Lady," he said, "we are to be wed two weeks hence. Will you not soften your heart to me?"  
  
"Lord Boromir, I respect you greatly as a warrior and as the Steward's son, but I do not love you. Being forced thus only hardens it further."  
  
"You still pine for Faramir." There was a note of anger and accusation in the voice as they reached the rooms where she was now staying. Two weeks ago, Denethor had ordered her moved into suites in his manor so that she would be come used to and comfortable with the halls of his house, which she would someday be Lady of.  
  
"Good night to you, my Lord," said Seralina at the door, ignoring the question.  
  
Boromir took her wrist. "I would not part ways with you yet, Seralina." He looked down at her.   
  
By all the Gods, but she is beautiful, he thought. He slid his arm around her and pulled Seralina to him. He bent his head and kissed her on the lips. Seralina stiffened and pulled back and as she twisted out of Boromir's grasp she slapped him.  
  
His cheek burned and his eyes watered, but then they flashed angrily. Boromir grabbed both of Seralina's wrists and pushed her into the door. The shock of her back striking the wall froze Seralina for a moment. Having Boromir hold her like this frightened her to her core for it was sheer dominance and nothing more.   
  
His brother had held her like this once, but it had been far different. After practicing with his bow, Faramir had left the mews tired and dirty. Seralina, in a fit of mischievousness, had doused him with cold water. He'd pursued her up the stairs and down one of the halls of her father's house until he caught her, laughing. He'd grabbed her by the wrists and held her against the wall, calling her a minx. She had not feared him then, only desired him.  
  
Now she feared Boromir.  
  
"You're hurting me, my Lord!" Her voice shook.  
  
Boromir stepped back and released her. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he struggled with his own feelings. Watching Seralina rub her wrists, he felt some pang of guilt and regret.  
  
"Forgive me," he said, "my passions got the better of me." He paused. "Do not make the mistake of striking me again, Seralina. That is one thing I will not tolerate."  
  
She would not look at him. The abrupt nature of his actions had torn a section of Seralina's dress collar, exposing a silver disc on a fine chain. Faramir's medallion. Boromir grabbed it and tore it off of Seralina's neck. She cried out in surprise and raised her hand to the stinging red line where the chain had bitten into her skin.  
  
"I am the Captain of Gondor, a warrior of great reputation who will someday hold the Stewardship of Gondor. What is it that keeps your heart from me?" He shook the medallion at her. "What quality does Faramir possess that I lack?"  
  
"The answer lies within your very question, my Lord." She disappeared inside her room, not saying another word to Boromir.   
  
The Captain of Gondor stood in the hallway for several minutes. His heart had grown heavier over the past weeks. He had tried to make himself believe that Seralina's feelings for Faramir were a passing fancy, and that she would change. He, too, had loved Seralina for many years, never thinking he would ever have the opportunity to have her as his wife.  
  
"What would you have me do, Seralina?" he said softly to the door. "What would you have me do?"  
  
** ** **  
  
Well, folks, we're almost done. I only have one more chapter written. Yes, I know some of you think Seralina is too perfect, mea culpa! If I ever continue this arc, I promise you'll see some not-so-perfect moments from her. 


	6. Rose of Gondor, Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Seralina and Hamathar are my own creations. The setting and other characters are all borrowed from Tolkien's works (hats off to the master!). I've received no compensation for this story, just the enjoyment of writing it and the intangible benefit of constructive critiques on style and form from the FanFiction.net band of pirates. Thanks to you all!  
  
Rating: PG13, if that.  
  
** ** ** **  
  
The two weeks between that night and the dawn of her wedding day dragged for Seralina. Dutifully, she stitched the hem of her dress. And she wept. The ladies Denethor sent to attend her fretted and tried to soothe her, but to no avail. As the days wore on, they watched the Rose of Gondor whither.  
  
Each morning, Seralina would look out her western window, hoping to see the return of Faramir. She knew he was coming. As Boromir's brother, the responsibility fell to him to witness the exchange of marriage vows. She suspected that even if it wasn't required, Denethor would insist on it simply to rub raw the wound in Faramir's heart.  
  
She'd not seen Boromir since that night in the hallway and she wondered if this should ease her heart or trouble it. Once they were married, Boromir would expect – insist – she be a wife to him. She'd boldly said once that he would have to take her favors by force for she would not give them willingly. That night in the hallway had shown her how easily Boromir could overpower her if he chose to.   
  
The morning of her wedding dawned bright and cloudless. The ladies helped her dress and bound her hair up with ropes of pearls from the far southern oceans. The dress was the finest white silk with silver trim. The hems of the arms and collar had been stitched with tiny crystals that sparkled in the sun. From a coil of pearls at the back of her head, a think gauzy veil draped down the length of Seralina's back.  
  
"Smile, my Lady," said one of the women. You look lovely; you should be radiant on your wedding day…"  
  
"You see a wedding. I see my doom sealed for all eternity." When she looked at the woman the tears on Seralina's cheeks sparkled as brightly as the crystals on her dress.  
  
When Lord Hamathar arrived to escort her to the hall, he paused and stared for she took his breath away. "How could I have had any part in creating something so perfect," he said. "And how can I ever forgive myself for binding her in a cage such as the one I bring her to now?"  
  
They walked in silence, no joy in their faces. Some days ago they'd spoken and he'd told Seralina as much as he was willing about what Denethor had done, and begged for her forgiveness. Seralina had granted it, but she knew in the depths of her heart, that her relationship with her father would never be the same.  
  
In the hall, Denethor had assembled some 50 people to witness the ceremony. As they came in the door, Seralina raised her eyes. At the end of the long aisle stood the Steward and with him a Justice who would perform the ceremony. Just to his side stood Boromir, and a few steps behind him, stood Faramir. His mouth opened slightly and his eyes grew wide when he saw her. And such a feeling of sadness and despair washed over him, that he felt dizzy.   
  
A few more crystal tears rolled down the Rose of Gondor's cheeks as Hamathar put her hands into Boromir's and stepped back.  
  
They are tears of joy, Boromir told himself.  
  
The Justice spent some time describing the binding agreement that is marriage and throughout, Seralina glanced at Faramir. Sometimes she would catch his eye, other times she would see him staring at the floor. Once she saw him level such a glare of hate at Denethor it chilled her.  
  
"Boromir, Captain of Gondor, heir and son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, this woman has been given to you to serve as wife, companion, lover, mother. From this day forward she is your responsibility, just as you will become hers. Will you take her as your own and fulfill your duties as her Lord and her husband? Will you take her to wife?"  
  
Boromir looked at Seralina for a long moment and smiled. He raised her chin with his finger. She was so very beautiful… All he had to do was say a single word and she would be his. He would possess her entirely…  
  
"No," he said suddenly, with a flash of clarity. "I will not take the Lady Seralina to wife."  
  
It would have been difficult to discern whose face wore a more shocked expression: Seralina, Faramir, or Denethor who darkened into a wrathful countenance.  
  
"If I believed in my heart that she loved me, I would wed her this instant," Boromir continued. "But she does not. This marriage was thrust upon her unlooked for and unwanted, and I would not take the Rose of Gondor into my bed unwilling."  
  
"Boromir!"  
  
He heard the fury in the Steward's voice and knew there would be only one chance to deflect the gathering wrath. "Father, I beg you as your son, do me this one favor. You trust my judgment in other things, trust it now. I have asked you for nothing else…"  
  
The Steward grew silent.   
  
"Brother," said Boromir, "come stand here." He put Seralina's hand into Faramir's. "Today I cede my place here to my brother Faramir, who loves the Lady Seralina deeply. Will you take Seralina as the Justice has required? Will you honor her and protect her, and above all, will you love her from now until the Breaking of the World?"  
  
"Until the Breaking of the World and beyond," said Faramir. The look of thanks, devotion and admiration in Faramir's eyes warmed Boromir's heart, and melted any last doubts he harbored over the wisdom of his decision.  
  
"And will the Lady Seralina take… Faramir, son of the Steward of Gondor, as your Lord and husband, caring for him and shielding him, loving him until the Breaking of the World?" asked the thoroughly bewildered justice.  
  
"She will. Oh, aye, she will," laughed Seralina.   
  
"Then it is done," said the Justice.  
  
Then Seralina tore her eyes off of her newly-wedded lord to look at Boromir and a brilliant smile, a sun coming up over the snowy mountain peaks, lit the room. He gently took her hand and dropped Faramir's medallion into it.   
  
"I believe this is yours," he said softly.   
  
Seralina put her hand on Boromir's cheek and smiled at him. It was the kindest look she'd shown him these past long months. For a moment, Boromir wished that there was a way to sway Seralina's heart to him. But when he looked at Faramir, he could not begrudge his brother the happiness he'd found.   
  
"Be welcome in our family, sister," he said loudly. Leaning in, he kissed Seralina on the cheek. "Now kiss him and be done with this before my father's patience runs out for me as it has for the two of you," he whispered into her ear. "And be happy, Rose of Gondor. Bloom again and be happy."  
  
Then Faramir took Seralina in his arms and kissed her as he had longed to do these many months, and it was no chaste kiss merely to satisfy ceremony.   
  
** ** ** **  
  
Well, that's all folks. This is as far as I went with this particular story, although I have a few ideas of what else to do… If I do continue, new chapters will be a little while in coming… I need to split my time between this, promoting my published novel, and working on my new manuscript.  
  
I have a different LOTR fanfic that I think I'll post, so if you like Haldir and/or Legolas, keep an eye out for it… 


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